


How to Cope When Your Loved One Becomes a Creature of Hell

by HuntingHardyGirl



Series: 21st Century Demon!Frank Hardy [1]
Category: Hardy Boys - Fandom, Nancy Drew - Fandom, Supernatural, crossover - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Gen, Gore, Incest, Sex, Torture, Unhealthy Codependent Relationships, brotherly incest, drug mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14510490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingHardyGirl/pseuds/HuntingHardyGirl
Summary: Frank Hardy sold his soul to a crossroads demon in a last ditch effort to save his younger brother Joe for an untimely and painful death. Unfortunately, the demon was pushing for a deadline, and Frank got snatched by the hellhounds within a month, cheated out of his ten year deal. However, he promised Joe that he would come back, and if it's something Joe can always count on, it's that Frank always keeps his promises. Even if his big brother now has black eyes and a permanently crooked moral compass.





	1. The Beginning

The day Frank came back, it was a cloudy day, threatening rain from the dark grey/almost black clouds overhead. The air was hanging heavy, almost too thick to breathe, and people were keeping to their homes in an effort to stay sheltered from the potential downpour. And Joe woke up to a headache, his room almost too dark to be morning, despite his clock telling him he had slept in way more than he meant to.

Sleeping was one of the few things he could do that didn't totally make him wanna jump off a bridge nowadays. It had been a year and a half since Frank died, since the hellhounds had come a'howling. The panic in Frank's grey eyes had struck a deep terror in Joe's heart, and they had done their best to keep the beasts at bay. After all, Frank had ten years on his deal, didn't he? That was what the demon had promised...

(*)

_"So what's the probability of that thing lying to you?" Joe asked, pressing his body against the door as the hounds outside scratched and pounded against the metal frames, their barks almost making his ears pop._

_"Very likely," Frank growled, doing his own best to add his own body as a barricade. "Normally they're supposed to keep their end of the deal. It's the only thing honest about them."_

_"So what the fuck changed?"_

_"I have no idea!"_

(*)

His phone buzzed, pulling the blond from his thoughts, and he tugged it from the bedside table to look at it, squinting at the bright light. Another text from Nancy, telling him she had yet to find anything concrete, but she'd keep looking and to keep his chin up. As if that changed anything, but it did make him feel less alone, that she was helping like this. After all, this had been a big thing. 

It wasn't everyday you manage to trick everyone you knew and loved that someone in the family was still alive despite being dead.

(*)

_"Joe, listen." Frank's skin was beaded with sweat, the fear barely withheld in his gaze as he looked at his brother. "You can't let anyone else know about this. It's bad enough that Nancy knows about it."_

_"What do you mean?" Joe asked, wide eyed. "Not tell anyone you're going to Hell?"_

_"Don't tell anyone I'm dead."_

_"...Are you high?"_

_"No, I'm serious. Listen, something's wrong. I should have gotten more time, and you and I both know this. And I don't plan on leaving you behind. Not like this. Not for long. I'm going to come back, and I can't do that if everyone knows I'm dead. You gotta pretend like I'm alive."_

_"And how the fuck am I supposed to do that, genius?!"_

__

__

__

_"Well, I always did want to study abroad..."_

(*) 

Forcing his aching body out of bed, Joe ran his fingers through the tangled mess that was his hair, heaving a sigh and lowering his head. Sure, it had been one hell of a trick, almost impossible to pull off. But he knew Frank like the back of his hand, knew how to make it look like Frank was alive and well, just more or less living off the grid. Nancy had been recruited, however reluctantly, to help sell the fantasy, using photoshopped pictures and everything to send back through a fake email account. As much as Laura and Fenton knew, their eldest had been bitten by the bug of wanderlust and had decided to leave the country, traveling and seeing the sights and escaping the detective life for a while to help get his mental health into better shape.

Really, it was almost sad how easy it had become. 

Getting to his feet, he tugged a pair of wrinkled jeans off the floor and onto his legs, leaving his room and heading downstairs. The house was quiet, save for Playback, who was busy grooming his feathers on his favorite perch on the TV. Laura and Fenton were already out of the house, with a note on the fridge reassuring Joe that they would be back later in the day. He set the note aside and pulled the fridge door open to grab the milk, already going on autopilot as he prepared some cereal. 

The house never felt the same with Frank gone. Joe worked with a lot of facades over the years, but pretending like everything was okay had been killing him. There were nights where he'd sneak into Frank's room, sleeping in his bed as he hugged one of Frank's pillows to his chest, trying not to remember that night but unable to get it out of his head. 

(*) 

_The door gave another mighty WHUMP! as the hounds tried to force it open. Having put a thick wooden board across the locks, Joe knew it was only a matter of time before they burst through, and he was shaking so hard it was a wonder he could keep himself standing._

_Frank, however, had become almost eerily calm. Seeing Joe scared always had that effect on him. Whether he really was feeling calm, or he was pretending for Joe's benefit, the younger Hardy never figured it out, but for the moment he was too preoccupied with the knowledge that his brother was about to be ripped apart any minute. And it petrified him, wanting to protect him, wanting to kill as many hounds as he possibly could, despite the knowledge that it was futile, that it would mean nothing, that Frank was going to Hell anyway. Down below where he'd be tortured day in and day out, for all eternity, and there was nothing Joe could do to stop it._

_And it wasn't fair! Frank didn't deserve Hell! He was a great guy. He had a big heart, he cared about people, the only reason he stuck with the detective business in the first place was that he could make a difference in the world. He wanted to help people, wanted to do something to make humanity a little bit better. How could someone like that deserve to go to Hell, just because of a greedy ass demon who had lied on the deal in the first place?_

_"Joe."_

_He blinked, Frank's voice pulling him from his frantic thought process, and he looked over to find Frank smiling rather sadly at him._

_"It's gonna be okay," Frank said._

_"No--" Joe choked a little, throat swelling with sudden emotion. "Nothing will ever be okay. Not when you're dead. Not when you're in Hell."_

_"I'll come back."_

_"How do you know that? What if that demon was right? If they torture you enough, you turn into one of them, and then you...you won't care about anything anymore. You won't care about ME anymore."_

_"That will never happen." Frank moved forward then, taking Joe's face in his hands, the skin on his palms oddly cool despite what was right outside the door. "Nothing in this world will ever make me stop caring about you. You're my little brother. That's not gonna change anything. Got it?"_

_His eyes blurred with tears, but Joe couldn't seem to find it in himself to speak._

_"Don't worry," Frank said. "I'll come back. I promise you, I will always come back to you." He grinned a little. "Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."_

_That was when the door crashed open, and the hounds rushed in._

**(*)**

****

****

**"Wimp! Wimp! Wimp!" Playback flew into the kitchen then, landing on the back of the chair across Joe in the kitchen. His beady black eyes watched the blond with almost too much intelligence for the small green parrot, beak clicking almost in disapproval.**

****

****

"Who are you calling a 'wimp', featherbrain?" Joe asked, disgruntled. 

"Wimp!" Playback swayed back and forth then, feathers puffed up. 

"Uh-huh. Wait until you meet a cat, see who'll be the wimp then." Finishing off his cereal, Joe dumped the bowl into the sink, filling it with hot frothy water with the dish soap. "One swipe of those claws will have you running tail. Or, flying tail, in your case." 

The parrot made a "hrrumph" noise, his voice sounding almost eerily like Frank's, and Joe sighed a little, reaching out to give the bird a small scratch on the top of his head. "I know you miss him too, buddy. Trust me, no one misses him more than me." 

That wasn't enough for Playback, who made a sad whistling sound before flying back into the living room. Not feeling like chasing after the bird, Joe left the house, wandering across the front yard to the mailbox and tugging it open, finding some bills already waiting. Bringing them into the house would at least save Laura a trip. 

"Sure is quiet around here." 

Shock filled his system, causing his slack fingers to drop the bills. The last time he had heard that voice, it was screaming in pain as hounds yipped and snarled, the sound of ripping flesh accompanying the painful encounter, before the sudden deafening silence that followed had his ears ringing. Jerking his head around, Joe felt like the entire world was standing still. "...Frank?" 

Frank grinned, looking healthy and happy and alive, standing there on the sidewalk as if he really had just come home from a yearlong vacation in Europe. "Hey little brother," he said cheerfully. "How's it going?" 


	2. Chapter 2

Joe felt like he was in a new type of dream, unable to take his eyes off of Frank. Having moved to the house with the mail in tow, Frank opened the fridge to help himself to some grapes, and he looked so...normal. At least at first glance. He looked human, he looked completely unharmed, like the attack with the hellhounds had never happened. The gash on his throat had healed over so completely that Joe couldn't even see the scar, if there even was one to begin with. 

But Joe's clairvoyance was enough to let him know that Frank wasn't entirely human anymore. His aura was a bit warped, smoky grey and black, and there was a flickering in those eyes. Normally he would have been able to see the demonic face, but either it was because it was Frank, or there was some magic at work, but Joe couldn't see it. And now that he was thinking about it, he probably didn't want to see a demonic face with his brother's features anyway. The few times he had ever seen a demon up close had been nightmare fuel, and he didn't think he could even look at Frank if that was the case.

"You good?" Frank's voice shook Joe from his thoughts, looking at the blond in some amusement. "You look like you got a baseball in your throat."

Joe sputtered a little. "Are... Dude, you just came back! From _Hell_! You're just walking in like nothing happened!"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"...And?"

"I promised I would come back, didn't I? And I said we had to pretend that I hadn't died, right?"

"W-well, yeah, but--"

"So what's the problem?"

"You fucking died right in front of me," Joe snapped, "and you wanna know what the problem is? Do you have any idea how hard it's been on me? I had to keep pretending to Mom and Dad like everything was fine, but you were gone! I missed you, I didn't know what you were going through down there, I don't think I even wanna know, but you weren't here, and I was alone--"

"Joe."

"You were in Hell because of me, and now you come waltzing in like nothing happened!"

Frank set the grapes aside and reached out, grabbing Joe's chin with a surprisingly tight grip, forcing the blonde to go silent as Frank loomed over him, those grey irises flickering black for just a few seconds. "Let's get one thing straight," he said, his voice low. "I did not go to Hell because of you. I went to Hell because I did what I had to to save your life. And I don't regret a single moment of it. Do you understand? You're alive. You're safe. That's all I wanted, and that's what I got."

"But your deal--"

"I'm looking into that," Frank cut in. "Don't concern yourself over it. Right now, I'm home, just like I promised I would be. And I'm never leaving you behind again."

There was a long pause as they stared each other down, before Joe sighed, closing his eyes. "Okay."

"Okay." Frank released him then, only to wrap his arms around his brother and bring him in for a tight hug. His body felt warmer, warmer than a human body would be, and Joe clung to him as tightly as possible, burying his face into his brother's shoulder. "It's okay, Joe. I'm alright now."

"...So you're a demon now?"

"Pretty much. But not everything has changed. I still love you, and I still love our friends and family. I think I might be an anomaly, but that's water under the bridge now. I got kicked out of Hell once I was off the racks, so I came straight here." Frank gave Joe a little squeeze. "It's still me. I'm just...improved."

"Yeah, I heard becoming a demon does that."

Frank laughed, releasing his brother and grabbing the grapes again. "Too true! Now come on, show me what I've been doing in Europe for the last year. I need to get my stories straight to convince our folks."

(*)

On the outside looking in, it probably looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Fenton and Laura were more than happy when they came home to find Frank had returned. Lots of hugs and kisses were given, and Laura went to cook some brunch for the four of them, as Frank regaled tales of some of his trips, like all the foods he tried, and the languages he had tried to learn and the friends he made along the way. Hell, that afternoon they even went bowling together as a family, where some of their friends ran over to welcome Frank home too. It was like one large happy reunion.

If only they knew the truth.

Joe was eyeing Frank later that evening as they lounged in his room, laying back in his bed and twirling his Swiss Army knife. Frank had picked up Joe's tablet and was scrolling through it without a care in the world. "You know this is probably the biggest lie of our lives," he said finally. "Even bigger than the ATAC thing."

Frank glanced up from whatever he was looking at on the tablet, smirking a little. "What's one more lie then?"

"Dude, you died and went to Hell."

"We've been over that." Frank put the tablet down and went over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Joe, listen. I know this is gonna take a while to adjust to. But I'm back now. I'm home. And now that I have some of these nifty powers, then I have a better chance at protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Joe repeated, frowning. "Protecting me from what?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you wanna know right now."

"Frank."

"Later. A need to know basis, alright?"

Joe glared at his brother, who was now rifling under his bed and tugging out a familiar bag. "Dude, that's mine."

Frank grinned, putting the baggie into his pocket. "Mine now, little sinner. Get some sleep alright?" With that, he patted Joe's ankle before getting up and heading out, pulling the door shut behind him.

Joe huffed a little, throwing himself back against the pillows with a groan. First his brother was a demon, and now he was stealing Joe's weed. Rude.


End file.
